Mustang's Miniskirt Propaganda
by HetaliaFiction
Summary: Mustang wants nothing more than for female soldiers to have to wear miniskirts. Of course, his obsession may just become his object of hatred, especially since he likes to try things out for himself. /Slight crack fic/


**Fullmetal Crack-a-mist**  
 **Miniskirt Masquerade**

I wanted to say before you begin reading... This is **not** a serious story. It's a little bit of a crack fic actually, but it's not been written with super bad grammar like a lot of crack fics are. It's kind of a mock story towards Mustang, because, yeah... whatever. Anyways, the most important thing I want to say is: **I had originally published this on my old account, but took it down due to bad grammar and lack of detail.** Now, I'm publishing it on my new account with some-what improved grammar. I hope you guys enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

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It was another peaceful day in Roy Mustang's office. He'd just finished up the rest of his paperwork and was preparing to head home when he found a document on his desk stating that, yet again, his request to have all female soldiers placed in navy blue miniskirts had been summarily revoked by his superiors. Signatures in blue and black ink flooded the bottom half of the paper and some even meshed into the words he himself had jotted down only a day and a half ago. He just didn't understand. Why exactly would grown men like himself turn down an opportunity to see the long, toned legs that Military women were so notorious for having?

Roy shook his head with a disappointed sigh and combed his fingers through his hair. "What is so wrong with miniskirts?" he wondered aloud, before he headed to the chair that was sat behind his desk.

He poked it with his toe, then began toying with the desk drawer itself. Inside it, he kept a spare miniskirt for whenever he thought Riza might just give into his **cough** nonexistant **cough** charm. But here it was, still folded up and laying inside, untouched and surely not going to be used by a sexy lady any time soon. His best bet was, in his mind, to try it on and see what was so awful about wearing the garment. After all, his subordinates had gone home almost an hour ago, and his superiors were in some kind of super important meeting that he just didn't care about right now.

He picked the article of clothing up and gave it an almost questioning look. Then, he slid over and closed the door, and moved towards a mirror that was stationed by a window in his office. What was so _bad_ about this miniskirt? He didn't know. And he wouldn't until he put it on. With this thought in mind, he unfastened the belt supporting his pants, shimmied out of the clothing, and then slipped his beloved miniskirt into place.

See, the point of a miniskirt is to be pretty high up on the legs and to give legs a defined _sexiness_ , but when Mustang looked in the mirror, that was the last thing he saw. His legs were absolutely, positively **covered** in hair. Coarse, pitch black hair to be exact. From thigh to toe, there was no spot of flesh that could be seen from beneath Mustang's luscious mane. His face paled and he stared at his limbs in intense dismay. _This_ had been going on beneath his pants? _This_ hair was growing into a hay field! "I-uh-wh-but-EW!"

Mustang, having seen enough of his own body for one day, hastily brought his hands back up to the waistline of the skirt. Unfortunately, he was shaking so badly that his fingers simply wouldn't grasp the material, and before he knew it, the door to his office had been pushed open.

Superior after superior stared at Mustang, and as they began to quietly whisper about what was going on, even more officials flooded in. They all stared, all talked, but didn't move.

Roy's cheeks flushed a bright red and he put his hands in front of his crotch. Yeah, cos that did him a lot of good. "...Colonel Mustang... What... What on earth are you doing?"

"Are you seriously wearing a miniskirt?"

"Are you a lunatic?"

Not long after the higher-ups had gotten in, a very well known voice began yelling at people to stop calling him short and to move out of his way. Roy began to freak out even more. He'd never be able to live this down if Ed so much as heard about the incident, but if Ed actually _walked in on it_? He might as well have just burnt himself up in the miniskirt, because Ed wouldn't let him _live_ a second, let alone live it down. "No! No, no, no!" he breathed.

Several higher ups kept stepping in his way, trying to talk to him, to ask him questions about why he would do it and why he wouldn't shave the scraggly horse tails off of his legs beforehand, but he kept trying to get back over to his desk. _To get back to his pants_ because he needed those more than anything at the moment. It wasn't happening.

As fate would have it, Ed managed to break into the room with Al following closely behind. "I am not a pint sized midget! Do you-"

Honey-colored irises flickered over to Mustang, who was still caught up in the process of trying to remove the miniskirt he'd put on. Red flushed across Ed's face and his cheeks swelled and just moments later, Edward Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist, was doubled over in hysterical laughter. He was pointing and crying and laughing and all the while, Alphonse was doing his best to calm his brother down and apologize for the scene. "Ahaha! Your- Your legs are so **hairy**! Haha, it's disgusting!" he sobbed, tears rolling down his cheeks.

Roy, deciding he'd try to save a little bit of his **cough** absolutelydead **cough** dignity, stepped forward with his arms crossed over his chest. "Fullmetal."

"Ahaha! You actually put a miniskirt _on_! I knew you were desperate, but I didn't know you were _that desperate_ , Mustang!" he cried.

"Fullmetal."

"This is beautiful!"

"S-So tell me who put you up to this?! Was it Havoc?!"

"Fullmetal."

"I bet it was Havoc!"

" _Fullmetal_."

"Or maybe it was-"

 **Boom!**

The room was blinded by red-orange flames and the smoke that spread out left everyone completely veiled. When it began to clear, Ed was lying on the ground unconscious. His body would occasionally twitch, but aside from that, he was completely unaware of the world around him, and he would be for a while.

Roy sighed, _finally_ got the miniskirt off, cut it up with a pair of scissors, and threw it in the trash. Then, he plopped down behind his desk and placed his head in his hands. "Uh, Colonel Mustang," Havoc said from the doorway, his brows narrowing and a smile growing on his face.

His eyes darkened and he held up an antique camera. It was of no question to Mustang what his subordinate who had supposedly gone home had done."HAVOC!"

Havoc tore off down the hallway, leaving Roy struggling to get out of his office, because for some reason, the higher ups still hadn't left. "What do you want Colonel Horsehair?!"

" _I'll kill you! Get rid of that camera!_ "

And so, needless to say, Mustang never asked for miniskirts at Head Quarters again.

Some soldiers say though, that if you listen closely at 8:02 P.M., the same time his superiors walked in on him, the sound of Mustang crying can be heard from inside his office, but nobody knows for sure...

...Unless you're Ed and you put your ear to the door...

 **End.**


End file.
